


Professor?

by zephsomething



Series: Surviving the War [59]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-09-03
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:53:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26272162
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zephsomething/pseuds/zephsomething
Summary: Neville talks with some of his students.
Series: Surviving the War [59]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/813804
Comments: 4
Kudos: 23





	Professor?

**Author's Note:**

> Shoutout to @ithopoiia for editing for me!

It was getting towards evening as Neville walked the halls of Hogwarts. These days you could hardly tell there’d been a battle here at all if you hadn’t been there. Though he supposed a full summer of magical cleaning and then seven years of touch ups will clean a place of anything but memories. The sound of sniffling broke through his musing.

A small girl with green on her robes had tucked herself away in a corner where Neville was sure she thought no one would notice her in. He crouched beside her and produced some chocolate from one of his pockets. She was a first year, Sara something, quite adept at flying according to Madam Hooch.

“I’m sure whatever it is will be helped with some sweets.” He smiled softly as she stared at him warily. When she didn’t respond he put the chocolate beside her. “It’ll be night soon; you should probably head towards your common room.”

“That’s where I came from.” She scrubbed at her face with her sleeve and she looked so young it made Neville want to cry himself. She didn’t explain but she didn’t really need to, Neville knew what Slytherins were like with kids who didn’t fit, even these days when some of their parents were trying hard to be better.

“If you ever need somewhere to be alone, I never lock my office.” He stood up with a small wave. “And I’m hardly ever there.”

“Thank you.” Sara said seriously as she stood up. She didn’t wave as she walked away but the chocolate had disappeared from the bench so he counted that as a win.

He was about to continue on his walk when a boy stormed up to him, the red trim on his robe covered in dust and dirt from how it dragged behind him. No doubt it had been bought with the hopes that he’d grow into it. Elphias Alric, poor kid, had been saddled with a name even older than Neville’s but he wore it with as much pride as he did his house colours. It wavered from day to day whether Neville thought that pride was a good thing or not.

“Professor! You’re supposed to be the head of Gryffindor not Slytherin!” The way the boy said Slytherin it sounded like a fate worse than death. Neville couldn’t blame him, he was still only a child after all, and it had taken Neville until his seventh year to realize that the same could be said about Slytherins. “Why are you going around babying sniveling little Slytherin girls?”

“And why shouldn’t I?” Neville sat on the bench Sara had just vacated and gestured for Elphias to do the same.

“She’s a Slytherin! They’re all the same, bratty little stuck up purebloods who hate the rest of us for being different than them,” he snapped out, anger and history in his words. “They’re the worst and awful and mean and bullies and they’re the reason for the war and you were _there_ professor you should know that!”

“And you think little Sara started the war then? Fought in it maybe?” Neville raised an eyebrow at him. “I don’t recall seeing her there but it was a bit hectic, I may have missed her.”

“Well…” He frowned and let out a huff. “No probably not, she’d have been even littler than I was then.”

“So, you think she’s just naturally evil then?”

“Maybe.” Elphias scuffed his toe against the floor.

“At eleven?” Neville made a thoughtful noise. “That would be an impressive age to already be evil beyond saving.”

“I guess you’re right.” He frowned at his hands.

“Well I’m only one person with one opinion, let's consider some others.” Neville said with a small smile that he wasn’t sure Elphias could see. “When the sorting hat sings a song each year what does it say about Slytherins?”

“That they’re cunning and ambitious and…” He frowned and looked up at the ceiling, it was the same look he got when he was confused by a question on a test. “True friends, determined, and pure-blooded. Or well, it says that Slytherin picked those with the purest blood but I’m not sure the hat cares so much about that.”

“And do any of those sound like good reasons to let an eleven-year-old cry without helping?” Neville asked, his voice as soft as he could make it. The last thing he wanted to do was interrupt the revelation Elphias seemed to be having.

“Well no… but every dark wizard-”

“Now whoever said that was full of hogwash.” He shook his head. “Gryffindor has its fair share as well, so does Ravenclaw. In fact, the only house that doesn’t have any dark wizards of note is Hufflepuff.”

“Why not?” Elphias frowned at him, but it was the kind of frown he turned on a complicated puzzle and Neville knew better than to take children’s expressions personally.

“No better authority on the houses than the hat, what does it say?”

“Hufflepuff’s are hardworking, patient, and fair.” Elphias’ voice started softly and got firmer as he got more sure of the answer. “She taught everyone the others didn’t want and thought highly of tolerance for all things both great and small.”

“Do you think that might have something to do with it?”

“Yeah probably,” He nodded seriously. “Awful hard to be a dark wizard when you're fair and tolerant of everything and everyone.”

“Exactly, now head off to bed, it’s well into night now.” Neville grinned and pulled a packet of bubblegum out of his pocket and handed it to Elphias. “You must be running rather low about now, and there’s still a few weeks to the next Hogsmeade trip.”

“Thanks professor!” Elphias stuck the pack in one of his pockets before tearing off down the hall, robe flapping behind him like wings. Neville didn’t recall ever having that level of energy, though he was sure Ron and Harry had, possibly still did now that he was thinking about it.

**Author's Note:**

> And thanks to all of you for reading!


End file.
